Make Yourselves At Home
by VBreadergirl123
Summary: The Avengers are in the hospital a thousand times more than the average person, and have resorted to literally personalizing their own rooms.
1. Chapter 1

**ONESHOT TIME! So I should probably be doing homework, but this was in my head, and I really wanted to write it. If you HAVEN'T been reading my other story, We Can't Just Walk Away, I highly suggest you check it out, along with anything else I've written.**

**I do not own Marvel.**

**So without further, ado, I present: Make Yourselves At Home.**

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The hospital staff at SHIELD is incredibly used to having to deal with the chaos also known as the Avengers. They see the team so often that some of the members have started customizing their own hospital rooms to the point of Nick Fury having to interfere because _no, Tony, you aren't allowed to put a personal jacuzzi in a hospital room, you shouldn't even be here enough to NEED one_.

Of all the Avengers, Bruce is hospitalized the least often. His big, green alter ego has the ability to deflect nearly anything that can possibly be shot at him _(literally—when the Hulk gets hit by lightning and a nuclear bomb at the same time and only comes out of it all with a concussed Bruce, Tony starts voicing his jealousy)_. So the few times that Bruce actually _does_ end up in the infirmary, the staff is quite shocked. However, they generally prefer Bruce as a patient to all of the rest of them, and if it didn't imply that he got hurt so often, would wish that they got to see him more often than the rest of them.

The only things Bruce really keeps in his designated room are some books and a set of tea bags and tea kettle.

Thor comes in second for the "least amount of hospitalization" contest, as, well, he's a _god_, and anyone who can actually manage to fight the Hulk can generally manage to take care of himself for the most part. He _does_ get some injuries, though, which leads to a massive amount of sedative being used on his all-holy metabolism to keep him out long enough to fix him up. With his constant question-asking _("what IS that beeping noise?" "Thor, that's your heart monitor.")_ and his habit of waking up in a similar fashion to the way he first did when he came to earth _("who DARES to try and contain the Son of Odin?" "Thor, buddy, calm dow—don't smash the machines, please")_, Thor has to be the most destructive of all the patients the staff has to deal with.

Thor insists on keeping a full-stocked pantry of pop tarts in his hospital room, along with a computer with which he uses to Skype Jane whenever she isn't busy. Besides, when he isn't using the computer for Skype, he has a habit of finding his way onto YouTube and watching anything with cats.

Clint and Natasha are almost exactly tied for being exactly in the middle in terms of the amount of times they end up in the infirmary—since they _are_ master assassins and do such a good job at protecting each other, they aren't confined as much as they could be, but because they are human and have a nasty habit of saving each other, thereby causing their own injuries, they still end up in the infirmary pretty often. Clint has to be the one of the most irritating patients the hospital staff has because he is _constantly_ finding new ways to sneak out of the hospital room _("Director Fury, I think we lost Agent Barton!" "Again? Did you check all the air vents?" Needless to say, Clint was found four stories above his room inside one of the air vents eating a bag of chips)._ Natasha isn't nearly as bad, but the staff is terrified of her. She encourages their terror, of course, but she never outright threatens them. Still—terrified. _("Natasha, please stop terrorizing the hospital staff" "It's not my fault they're a bunch of babies.")_ She may or may not have made one or two nurses cry.

Due to the constant escaping of Clint, generally to find Natasha, the pair's hospital room has been combined into one. Natasha keeps one of Tony's StarkPads in the room so she can keep up on the TV shows she almost never has time to watch, and Clint keeps a set of Nerf Guns, either to fight with Natasha or to take aim at unsuspecting doctors and nurses. And sometimes Tony.

Steve is hospitalized incredibly often. Because of his selflessness, he is constantly taking risks for his team. Also, as Steve is the leader, the team has found that their enemy most often goes for Steve first to take out any form of leadership they may have. However, while he is hospitalized often, his stays are never very long due to his super-soldier serum _("How did he heal so quickly, he had a major concussion and has better in 36 hours?")_. Steve also has a problem with irritating the staff, and while he never sneaks out, he is constantly asking after the rest of the team and when he can go see them.

All Steve ever really needs in his room are a few books, and sometimes Tony brings in a laptop with a few DVDs of old movies that Steve liked. His room and Bruce's are probably the most simple.

Of all the Avengers, Tony is the one who is constantly getting injured. Getting injured an insane amount of times, actually. He _literally_ holds the record of number of times hospitalized in a month _("TONY! This is your FIFTH time in the hospital this month!" "Actually, Pep, it's my fifth and a HALF—I was here once for stitches, too_). Tony is a restless patient, so he is constantly trying to leave—he never actually makes it out the door—and trying to get ahold of his technology, even when he has concussions. He is constantly whining, and yet the second he gets out of the hospital, he generally ends up BACK there a few days later.

Tony's room is the most personalized: flat screen TV, really expensive sheets (still white, but they're much softer than that hospital-issued sorry excuse for a sheet), and keeps a few StarkPads there for himself and anyone who wants to use one, all fully equipped with JARVIS. He also has a large couch in the room, because people are constantly falling asleep in the plastic hospital chairs, so he figured he should give them somewhere nice to sit.

So yes, the Avengers were in the hospital a thousand times more often than the average person. And they were _literally_ making themselves at home, because they didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

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**So what did you think? I'm thinking of actually expanding this story and making oneshots for each of the characters about what happened in the parentheses up there. Good idea? Bad idea? Leave me a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**And so since a lot of you seem to want to know the backstories, I am going to continue this used-to-be oneshot. First up is Bruce! Thanks so far for the positive reviews, and let me know what you think!**

**I still don't own the Avengers or Marvel**

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When Bruce ends up in the hospital, the medical staff starts to worry.

He was rolled in on one of those hospital gurneys, conscious but obviously concussed. He was also mumbling something along the lines of _purple dragons bananas_, but none of it actually made any sense so no one tried to understand him. Tony was the first one in line to see him. In fact, Tony had literally walked down the hall as the gurney rolled down giving them all instructions on how to handle the Hulk just in case he decided to make an appearance. Which he didn't, but to be fair, he just had his first concussion.

What had happened was a one in a million chance. There had been some sort of alien invasion from who knows where—they hadn't asked Thor yet—and these aliens had some kind of nuclear bomb. When it was launched at the city, there had been no portal for Tony to take it to. Besides, he had been occupied trying to fix a collapsing building before it tumbled down on the people below. The Hulk had been rampaging around, and at the time had happened to be near where the bomb was going. Thor, ever the resourceful one, decided to try and blow it up in the air before it made impact, so he shot a bolt of lightning at it.

It blew up at the same time that the Hulk took a massive leap into the air to crush a few aliens, and he was blown to kingdom come. He landed in a daze (yes, the Hulk was _dazed_), and slowly reverted back into Bruce Banner form. The bomb had taken out a majority of the aliens, so the Avengers were almost finished anyway. Tony had just finished fixing the building when he saw the Hulk go flying, and flew over to Bruce's side as fast as he could. After some basic checking, Tony announced over the comms that Bruce had a concussion, and when the battle was over, he helped lift Bruce onto the gurney and take him to the hospital wing.

Tony also took the time to scour the entire jet in search of Bruce's favorite tea.

So when Bruce came to for the first time in a hospital bed with a recovering concussion, he was without a doubt incredibly confused. He himself had never been hospitalized, but he'd been in the rooms often enough (_cough cough _Tony _cough cough_) to recognize them.

_Am I in the hospital?_

"Morning, Jolly Green!" A familiar voice exclaimed. Tony was flung across one of the plastic hospital chairs messing around on his StarkPad. "Thought you'd be out for longer, but then again, the Other Guy probably didn't like staying concussed for long."

"I—I got a _concussion_?" Bruce asked in disbelief. He never got injured. Never.

"Yup. Apparently being in the proximity you were to a nuclear bomb that was hit by lightning can do that to the Other Guy. It would have killed the rest of us," he said matter-of-factly. "Tea?"

Bruce was still trying to process the fact that _he actually had a concussion_, so the question of tea didn't completely click with him right away. "I—what?"

"Tea? You know, the drink you always have that I don't understand because there's not nearly as much caffeine in it as coffee? This is the kind you like, right?" He held out the box to Bruce to show him the brand and flavor.

"Um, yeah," he said, accepting the cup that Tony handed him.

At this point, the other Avengers started walking into the room. Because they always had so many visitors, any time the Avengers got hurt, they were put into an extra large hospital room so all of their well-wishers could fit. This is why all five Avengers, plus Pepper, could easily fit in the room with Bruce.

"How are you feeling, Bruce?" asked Steve.

"Yeah, man, you went _flying_," added Clint. Bruce didn't remember what happened, but it was probably due to the combined fact that not only was he the Hulk, he _also got a concussion_.

"You know," Tony continued as if the others hadn't entered, "it's really not fair that you can literally be blown almost a thousand feet into the sky and only come out of it with a concussion."

"TONY!" shouted six exasperated voices. Bruce only laughed.

"Tony, do you mind keeping that box of tea here just in case I somehow get another concussion?" He doubted he'd be here often, but he might as well be prepared, shouldn't he?

And even though he only ended up in the hospital three more times with various injuries that would kill a normal man, and possibly a god or super soldier, he still had five boxes of tea stocked in his room, along with an electric tea kettle and a decent stack of books on the table beside his bed.

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**So there you have Bruce's story! I hope you liked it! The stories aren't going to be too focused on what actually happened to get them injured, but more about their exploits in the hospital. I mean, there will be an explanation, but it won't be as detailed as if I'm telling that story. Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! Awesome reviews, guys, I'm so glad you like the stories so far! So anyway, I finished my homework early tonight, and decided I should write Thor's. So I did! Hope you all like it!**

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The hospital staff hated having to deal with the God of Thunder, mainly because he _thundered_. Loudly, they might add, and to the annoyance of themselves and all the other patients.

Lucky for them, as Thor was, in fact, a _god_, he did not end up in the infirmary all that often. This battle, however, was an exception. Apparently, while a god was much better at healing himself than a normal human being, he still needs medical attention when he is speared through the stomach.

Because of Thor's... _tendency_ to wake up in a blind rage and cursing all of Midgard for restraining him in this puny bed, one (or more) of the Avengers is always sitting in Thor's room ready to calm him down should he awaken in that manner. None of them particularly enjoy the job, but the don't enjoy a destroyed infirmary _more_, so they do what they must.

This time, it was Clint who got stuck with calming an irate god.

Clint had actually fallen asleep on top of one of the medical cabinets in Thor's room when a booming voice called out, "who DARES to try and restrain the son of Odin?"

Clint literally fell off the top of the cabinet as he was waking up. Not at all pleased that Thor had disrupted his nap, he took two seconds to calm himself down and then walked over to Thor's bed.

"Thor, buddy, calm down—don't smash the machines, please!"

"What IS that beeping noise?" Thor demanded, swinging his fists towards the offending machine. Clint was barely able to hold them back.

"Thor, that's your heart monitor. Thor— _Thor_. Thor, look at me, calm down, it's Clint!" Clint finally gave way to shouting at Thor in hopes of being heard. He stopped punching blindly long enough to focus on Clint.

"Clint?" Clint breathed a sigh of relief. "What am I doing here?"

"You, oh thunderous one, got speared in the stomach. You've been here for a couple hours, but have recovered about a zillion times faster than the rest of us would have."

Thor thought it over, and then nodded. "That would explain my hunger, then. Would this hospital happen to have any of those wonderful Midgardian pastries? I believe they are called... Pop Tarts."

Needless to say, this was the first time the team _really_ learned about Thor's obsession with Pop Tarts, and as he asked for them literally ever time he woke up, they learned that the best course of action to avoid an angry god was to keep a large stock of them in Thor's room.

The other thing Thor always needed was a laptop, which was surprising, considering he had nothing near that technology on Asgard. Tony taught Thor how to use Skype, so whenever Thor wakes up, he pulls out a box of Pop Tarts, picks up the laptop, and calls Jane. He somehow manages to have a conversation while simultaneously stuffing Pop Tarts into his mouth with both hands.

What terrified the team most, though, was when Thor discovered the internet himself.

Natasha had been watching Thor that fateful day, and he had been on his computer with some large headphones on that Tony gave him (just in case he wanted a relatively private conversation with Jane), when she noticed his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Thor... what are you doing?" she asked tentatively.

"Natasha, come over here, you must see this!" Thor exclaimed. Natasha walked over and saw Thor on YouTube. _YouTube_. He was watching cat videos, and apparently had made a favorite of Nyan Cat.

It all went downhill from there.

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**So this one's definitely shorter than Bruce's because I didn't go into a lot of detail about how Thor got hurt. Anyway, I still hope you liked it. Leave me a review to let me know, and thanks for reading! I believe either Clint or Natasha are up next.**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I got time to update BOTH my stories today, woohoo! ANyways, thanks for all the awesome reviews, I am so glad you all like this story! This is actually the one I have been looking forward to writing the most, so I hope you all like Clint's story! And if you have time, be sure to check out my update for my other story We Can't Just Walk Away!**

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If anyone had yet to notice, Clint was nearly as stir-crazy as Tony when it came to hospitals. He hated sitting in the bed for such long periods of time, which happened relatively often as he wasn't "super" and therefore got hurt much, much easier.

Clint woke up in the hospital bed slightly disoriented, but he was used to the feeling. While he didn't get hurt nearly as much as Tony or Steve, he had been injured _more_ than they had because of his long history with SHIELD, and everything that came before that. Opening his eyes to the walls of the room, he turned to the bed beside him out of habit. He and Natasha had taken to sharing a hospital bedroom, as they were often found trying to sneak out to talk to each other.

She wasn't there. So she wasn't injured, then.

Glancing around the room, he saw Steve asleep in one of the plastic hospital chairs. Since he and Natasha generally keep watch over one another when only one of them is injured, this meant that the team had decided that Natasha had been cooped up in Clint's room long enough and needed to shower and eat. Pepper probably convinced her.

Clint heard his stomach grumble. He didn't know the last time he ate, but hospital food _sucks_. Moving slowly, he tried to determine what injuries he had. It felt like a twisted ankle, an injured back, and he just might have gotten shot around his lung but he didn't feel like peeling the bandages off to check. He was also hooked up to an IV. On the bright side, he was completely coherent, so he did _not_ have a concussion. He could make do with everything else. Unhooking the IV, he slid out of bed and stood up, favoring his right leg. Bending down, he reached under the hospital bed and pulled out one of his Nerf guns. Okay, so they wouldn't do any damage, but they surprised people. Plus, they were _fun_.

He limped quietly over towards the air vent and lifted off the cover. SHIELD was so stupid. They _knew_ he crawled through any vents he could fit through and yet they never changed them to make them smaller. Whatever, he needed them big. How else would he get anywhere? Did they expect him to use the hallways?

He crawled inside and, accessing the internal map of the infirmary wing in his head, started off to find a vending machine.

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Steve burst into the hospital's cafe in a panic. "Oh my god, guys, Clint's gone missing!"

Natasha rolled her eyes. This also happened to be the time Fury chose to walk in. He was _going_ to ask the Avengers to debrief with him, but stopped when he saw the look of panic on Steve's face. "What did you do?"

Steve swallowed. "Director Fury, I think we lost Clint."

Fury swore. "Again?" Steve cocked his head. _Again? He had done this before?_

Tony started laughing. This really shouldn't surprise him at all. "Did you check all the air vents?"

"N-no," Steve stuttered, "I did _not_ check the air vents." He paused and looked around at all the amused faces. "Should I have?"

Natasha smirked. "Yes. Yes you should have. Fury, where's the closest vending machine? Clint's probably hungry."

Fury looked at her, unconvinced. "Romanoff, the closest one is four stories _above_ Clint's room."

"Okay, I'll go find him," she said, heading towards the elevator.

"I'll come!" Exclaimed Tony, hopping up from his seat to follow Natasha.

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Clint was lying on his stomach in the air vent eating a bag of Doritos. These were ten times better than any food that the nurses would bring him. He heard the elevator _ding_ and Tony's and Natasha's voices floated down the halls.

"Okay, Tony, start checking the air vents. We should find Clint before the nurses throw a fit and decide to tie him to the bed," said Natasha.

"You got it, Spidey," Tony replied. Clint heard them starting to get closer, removing all the air vent covers as they went along. He wasn't sure who was going to open his, but if it was Tony, he wanted to be ready.

Reaching down next to him, he picked up his Nerf gun and aimed at the front of the vent. The cover popped off and Tony's face appeared, looking surprised to see a Nerf gun pointed at him.

Clint shot him in the forehead. "Hey, Tony," he said, popping another Dorito in his mouth. Natasha's face appeared beside Tony, who was rubbing his forehead. "God, Clint, you were _right _in _front_ of me," he complained.

Natasha grabbed Clint's arm and literally dragged him out of the air vent. "_You _nearly gave Steve a heart attack. Back you go," she said.

"But _Natasha_—" he started to whine. Natasha ignored him, wrapped his arm over her shoulders, and helped him limp back to the elevator.

"I don't want to hear it Clint, you got your food, you are going to _rest_."

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**Yay, Clint! This one is definitely my favorite so far. What do you guys think? Anyways, Natasha is next up, so hopefully I will see you all next weekend! Please REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wheeeeee very little homework! So i finished my homework really early tonight because it's a testing week at our school (we have to take these to graduate), and teachers give relatively light homework. So here I am, writing on a Thursday. Plus, and I apologize now, there is a chance I will NOT update this weekend because I have a volleyball tournament to go to. Even though I can't actually play because I am getting over a knee injury. Anyways, HERE IS NATASHA's CHAPTER!**

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Natasha doesn't _try_ to scare people (normally). It just happens sometimes.

To put it simply, Natasha was bored. She had woken up yesterday in her hospital bed and looked over to Clint's bed out of instinct. He was bedridden as well.

"Well, well, the Spider awakes," Tony said, sitting in the chair across from Clint's bed. Trying to be as subtle as possible, she reached her hand under the bed for the Nerf guns she and Clint keep there to shoot Tony. It had become a tradition, almost: every time they woke up in the hospital with Tony looming over them, they'd pull out their Nerf guns and shoot him in the forehead. Tony caught her movement and smirked. "Oh, no, not this time," he said as he pulled out the missing Nerf gun and hit her in the forehead. "My turn."

Natasha leveled a death glare at him, but he didn't so much as blink. "Try again next time," he said, tossing the gun over to her as he walked out the door. She started to wonder why he was leaving when Steve walked in—obviously Tony had been planning this. Natasha rolled her eyes, determined she would need to find a new hiding spot, and then aimed and shot Steve in the head.

To put it simply, Clint had a pretty bad concussion (what _is_ it with their team and concussions?), and was only awake a few of those twenty four hours. She herself had managed to break one of her legs, sprain her other knee, and dislocate both of her shoulders, so the doctors demanded that she stayed in bed at least for a few days. Natasha had spent most of the time on the StarkPad Tony gave her watching about twelve seasons of various TV shows—Supernatural, Pretty Little Liars, and many, many crime shows—and now she was bored. She also had no one to talk to because Clint was currently passed out and Pepper had to go on some Stark Industries business trip, and all the nurses were terrified of her. In fact, one had just walked in when Natasha decided she needed a way to entertain herself.

The nurse walked over (Nurse Claire, it says on her name tag) to check Natasha's shoulders. Natasha looked up at Nurse Claire and gave her a deadly glare—one that almost wasn't a glare but was one at the same time, and if anyone looked at her right now they would expect Natasha to literally rip the nurse's throat out with her own nails. Nurse Claire froze and nearly stopped breathing, and then slowly, slowly walked backwards towards the door, not taking her eyes off of Natasha for a moment.

Natasha smirked when she heard Nurse Claire in the hallway yell out, "OH MY GOD SHE IS GOING TO KILL ME!" She then heard the reassuring voices of the doctors saying that Claire was overreacting, and that they'd send another nurse in.

The process was repeated with four nurses. One of the nurses (Rhonda), literally started crying. Natasha felt a little guilty about making the nurses cry, but she was bored. _Plus_ she hated having them look at her shoulders, or any limbs for that matter. She really only trusted Clint and, to the surprise of most, the rest of the Avengers to patch her up, and she was tired of random people she didn't know trying to help her. It made her uncomfortable.

Finally, Fury himself walked in at the end of the day. "Romanoff!" Natasha looked at him with her eyebrows raised, daring him to comment on her exploits. "Natasha," he sighed, "please stop terrorizing the hospital staff. We _need_ them, and the nurses are all threatening to quit."

"It's not my fault they're all a bunch of babies," she replied. Fury slapped his hand against his forehead. "Can I leave?"

"_No_," said Fury, "you can_not_ leave. You are going to let one of the nurses check on you, and then you are going to behave for the rest of your stay in the hospital or so help me I will send you on a mission to the Arctic for twelve weeks!"

Natasha suppressed a cringe. She had been on one of those missions before. They weren't fun. "Fine," she said. "But I swear, if I don't get out of here soon, I will personally murder every single person in this hospital until I do."

Fury laughed. "You, Tony, and Clint are the most restless hospital patients I've ever had the misfortune of dealing with."

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**And there you have it folks! I know this chapter was a little bit shorter. I also know this might be a bit out of character, but for crying out loud, it's a _bored assassin_. She was going to get into some sort of trouble. Anyways, please review and let me know what you think! Steve is up next, so I hope to see you soon!**

**Oh, and if any of you have Tumblrs, I just got one, so if you want to follow me... :) it's the same as my pen name!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Soooo hello there guys! I do not know how to thank you enough for all the awesome reviews I'm getting from this story! Only two chapters left, counting this one! This is Steve's chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it!**

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This had been one of the rare missions when _all_ of the Avengers had somehow managed to nearly kill themselves, including the invincible rage monster and demigod. All of them were in their respectable hospital rooms, healing at their own pace. Natasha had been shot in the lung and nearly drowned in her own blood and Clint broke his leg and cracked his head open, so there was now a line along his head without any hair where the stitches had to go. Bruce got shot with some sort of Hulk-sedative thing that was still in testing and had some pretty negative effects on both the man and the Hulk, while Thor had been thrown off of the tower—_without_ his hammer—and hit the ground hard. Tony's suit had been hit with some sort of ray device thing that nearly caused it to electrocute him.

Steve had an entire car thrown into his head, spraining his entire back and giving him a major concussion with enough brain trauma to send a normal person into a coma and probable death. Steve was not a normal person.

This mission had actually been one of the first the team had been on since the Chitauri, so they were still working on "meshing" as a team, though it had been much better than the first time they ever met up. This mission was also before the medical staff had learned of Steve's incredibly self-healing abilities.

Steve was laying in his bed and slowly restoring consciousness as he heard the nurses start to run around frantically in his hospital room. "HOW DID HE HEAL SO QUICKLY?" a voice shouted. "It has been _thirty six hours_, and he had a _major _concussion, he should almost not even be _alive!_" He could hear them scurrying about, checking the equipment and all of his information to try and determine what had caused his sudden regain of consciousness.

His head was pounding. That was his first coherent thought. It was really, truly pounding, like he'd never felt before. If someone jammed a hammer into his brain it would hurt less. He groaned, and someone swore. "Are we even allowed to give him more narcotics? What if it kills him?" "It can't kill him, his body's burned through everything we've given him." "How do you know?" "Well, nothing else makes sense!" At this point, he didn't particularly care if it killed him, the migraine was definitely worse. "Call the doctors, call Fury, I don't care, but this man is in pain and I need to know what will help." Steve liked this voice, but he didn't like the idea of more people coming and talking.

A few minutes later, both Fury and the head doctor came banging through the doors. "What is the problem?" Fury asked, glaring his eye at everyone in the room. One of the nurses spoke up. "He's woken up from a concussion that should put a person in a permanent coma and fought off all of the painkillers we've given him. He's so much better, but we can tell it's hurting him, and we don't know if we can give him anything else."

Fury sighed. "He. Is. A. Super. Soldier. His metabolism is like five times a normal person's, of _course_ you can give him more!"

And Steve finally slipped back into unconsciousness. At least for a time.

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When he woke up again, his head was no longer throbbing in pain, which was a good sign. He was also able to open his eyes without blinding himself. He looked around and saw one of the nurses looking over his papers. "What happened?" he croaked out.

She looked up at him and walked over, bringing him a glass of water. "Here. You've been out for two days fighting off the side effects of getting hit in the head with a _car_."

He swallowed the water gratefully. "What happened to my team?" he asked. She hesitated. "What _happened_ to them?"

She broke eye contact. "They're... fine. They're getting better, but your team has suffered a lot of injuries, and it will take them time to heal. You healed faster than we expected, but the rest of them aren't better yet, and will take longer than you did."

"When can I see them?" She looked back at him, surprised. "I have to _see_ them, they're my team!" He was almost shouting now.

"Mr. Rogers, please calm down, you can't go see them yet partially because _you_ need more rest and partially because _they _need more rest. When both you and your team are physically capable of visiting one another, I promise I will be the first to let you know." Steve gritted his teeth and laid back down on the bed, not realizing until now that he had started to pull himself out to go check on everyone.

Steve couldn't rest not knowing how they were doing, though. He tried picking up a book that someone had brought him, but he couldn't focus. Pepper had also had a laptop sent to him from Tony with some movies on it, but he couldn't focus on those either.

He took the definition of a broken record almost literally, asking about his team every time someone walked in—doctor, nurse, SHIELD agent, Pepper, everyone—and while he never actually snuck out like Clint or Tony would have, he didn't stop until he finally got out of his bed and checked on all of them himself.

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**So that one wasn't nearly as funny and more fluffy, I suppose. I like the funny ones better, but that wasn't where I was going with Steve. Steve is definitely the one to cause the least amount of trouble, even though he _does_ annoy the hospital staff with his constant asking about his team. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the last one is Tony! Although, maybe I should do some sort of epilogue. I don't know yet. Sound off in the comments and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**And finally we have Tony's chapter! Sorry it's been so long, guys, but last weekend I had such minimal internet I had no time to write. I've also been hard at work on my next project for Clint and Natasha, because I sort of want to write it all before I start to publish. Anyways, thanks to all my reviewers, and enjoy!**

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The doctors in SHIELD's medical bay were very near classifying Tony Stark as suicidal: there was no way that one man who _wasn't _bent on his own destruction could end up injured _that_ many times. Which was why they were only marginally surprised when Tony showed up for the fifth time in the hospital, carried in completely unconscious thrown over Steve's shoulder.

The first time this month he had shattered his ankle trying to get a family out of the way of a collapsing building when the wall dropped on the edge of his suit on his foot. If he hadn't been in the suit, they predicted he probably wouldn't have been able to walk again, and would have kept him off of it longer if they could have.

The second time this month, he had nearly drowned pulling Clint and Natasha out of an underwater trap, and Natasha had nearly castrated him for taking such risks on their behalf while Clint watched amusedly from the sidelines as she threatened him.

The third time, most of the med bay was unaware, as all that had happened was a laser had cut through his suit and put a huge gash in his leg that required stitches. So they didn't really count this trip in their tally of his adventures in the hospital.

The actual third time, some mutant with telekinetic powers had thrown a huge pipe at his head and given him a major concussion, which caused him to throw up in the suit and three times thereafter in the hospital.

The fourth time, he and Steve had been kidnapped (or someone had _attempted_ to kidnap him and Steve), and they had only gotten out the door of the tower when the other Avengers, alerted by JARVIS, raced out with guns blazing to find a woozy Steve and a drugged Tony trying to fight off the kidnappers. This time, it really wasn't Tony's fault that he got hurt because Clint's gun misfired and hit him in the arm ("you were in the WAY!" Clint would scream at Tony later when he regained consciousness, but Tony would argue that he was not in his right mind at the time and therefore could not be blamed).

So it was literally the last day of the month, and Tony just _had_ to make one last trip to the hospital. Steve laid him down on his upgraded hospital bed with expensive sheets that Tony had paid for (which he could do because he was there so often), and looked at the doctors. "Hit in the ribs with a metal pole, so probably two or three broken ones, and was also carrying people out of a burning building after he lost his mask, so there's probably some smoke intake.

The doctors barely managed to contain their eye rolls. Tony was going to hear it later when Pepper got there, as she had a habit for yelling at him that he had a self-destructive hero complex (a lecture they had heard one too many times this month).

* * *

Tony forced his eyes open to find himself in his hospital bed with an oxygen mask placed over his head. His second thought was that breathing hurt like _hell_. A quick glance around the room showed most of the Avengers sleeping on his couch, while Clint was watching ESPN on his flat screen.

At the sound of Tony's movement, Clint turned around and grinned at Tony. "Morning," he said. "You've been out for about eighteen hours, how do you feel, Iron-Ass?"

Tony rolled his eyes at the nickname. "About as good as you look," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, so you feel wonderful?" Clint asked innocently.

"_TONY!" _Pepper's voice hissed through the air like she wanted to scream but was restraining herself due to the sleeping heroes in the room. "Tony, you _idiot_."

Tony put on a sleepy grin. "Hey Pep—"

"Oh, no, don't you 'Hey Pep' me!" Her voice was getting louder and now all the Avengers were waking up and watching Pepper yell at Tony. Again.

"Pepper, listen to me—" Tony couldn't get a word in.

"Oh, no, you listen to _me_. You _have _to cut this out. This is your FIFTH time in the hospital this month!" Pepper looked like a combination between pulsing rage and near tears.

"Actually, Pep, this is my fifth and a HALF—I was here once for stitches, too, don't you remember?" If looks could kill, Tony Stark would be dead ten times over. "Pepper, I'm _fine_. I promise I will be more careful next time," he said, trying to appease her.

Pepper let out an exasperated sigh. "You say that every time you end up here."

Tony smiled. She wasn't mad anymore. At least, not until next time he showed up.

Which would be six days from then.

* * *

So, yes, the Avengers caused more chaos in medical than anything anywhere ever could—between the escape attempts, the redecorating, and just the constant presence, the doctors and nurses had their hands full. If the Avengers were anyone else, they'd have been dead already. But they _weren't_ anyone else, and it was their job to save the world over and over again. So while this selfless and self-destructive group of people had gotten as close to the line between life and death as anyone possibly could, they aways managed to drag themselves back to life to save the world another day. And SHIELD's doctors, despite their complaints, would rather deal with them twenty-four-seven than live in a world without the Avengers protecting them.

* * *

**Aww, the end! I decided against an epilogue just because I didn't have enough to say. So that's the end of this story, and I'm glad you all liked it! Leave me one last review, pretty please?**

**I hope you all read my Clint and Natasha stories when I finish them—they're going to be good!**

**—VB**


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